


everybody knows that i’m a mess (i’m crazy)

by smoak-queen (PorcelainCas)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e08 Spacewalker, F/M, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e08 Spacewalker, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainCas/pseuds/smoak-queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He told me he loved me, Bellamy.” Clarke looks at him helplessly, a tear making a clear path down her bloodied face. “And I just kept going. I kept going.” She sobs. “Is this how he felt at the village?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody knows that i’m a mess (i’m crazy)

**Author's Note:**

> felt the need to write something for this brilliant episode. And what better to bring in my ship from this show? Originally wanted maybe some actual kissing, but it was OOC to me and definitely way too soon. Bellarke still needs some more development to get there.
> 
> Title from Lana's "Cruel World" because I have no music diversity
> 
> You can follow [my tumblr](http://ensemble-of-dolphins.tumblr.com), but I mainly post SPN and Destiel material.

Raven’s cries has gone silent, her shoulders shaking with grief, her hands clawing the ground in the anguish. Bellamy holds onto her without a word, eyes focused on the shadowed figures heading towards them with torches held high above their heads. He can’t say anything – afraid that something in him will snap and he’ll attempt to attack one of the grounders just after gaining the truce that they asked for.

Clarke’s shape becomes clearer, silhouetted against the colourless fog and trembling flames. Bellamy stares at her and tries to meet her eyes, but she’s staring straight ahead unseeingly. She always had a no-nonsense and fierce look after talking to the grounders, but now she looks broken, tired, and emotionally drained.

“Open the gates!” one of the guards shout, and it is then that Bellamy realizes how the silence had fallen over both camps after Clarke had killed Finn.

Clarke killed Finn. Clarke killed Finn. Bellamy is looking at a killer with intent right now – someone who carved into the heart of her friend, her lover, whatever the hell they were and became.

When Clarke enters the camp with her blood-stained hand, nobody moves for a second, unsure of what to do. Abby takes a step forward, her eyes full of tears, but before she can even say anything, Raven stirs into action, pushing a distracted Bellamy off of her and throwing herself at Clarke with a scream. They land on the ground, Clarke taking the blunt of the fall. Raven straddles her, keeping Clarke from getting up. The other girl doesn’t seem to be fighting back. Her arms lay laxly at her side, one clean and the other bloody.

“You killed him! You killed him!” Raven screams, her hands around Clarke’s neck. The girl stares up at her, regret etched in her features but she says nothing. “You’re a murderer; he loved you!” Raven raises a fist, slamming down onto Clarke’s face again and again without mercy. Tears stream down Raven's cheeks, but she doesn't stop. Clarke’s fists clench, though she doesn’t push back like she could. She lies there and takes it, blood spurting from her wounds to decorate her matted hair and tear-stained cheeks.

Bellamy is vaguely aware of the shouts from other people for Raven to stop when he moves forward, grabbing one of Raven’s arms tightly. Her punches had been wild and uncoordinated, and Clarke could have easy fought back, but she hadn’t. “Stop,” Bellamy says, trying to hide the tremor in his voice because he’s mourning Finn too. “It’s over.”

Her rage fuels her and Raven breaks out of Bellamy’s grip, hitting him with her elbow. “Let me go!” she yells, but two guards swoop in and grab her by the arms, pulling her away from Clarke. “She’s a killer!” Raven screams as she’s dragged away kicking. “She killed him. She killed him.” Her sobs echo through the silent camp, leaving the rest of them to deal with Clarke.

Bellamy doesn’t even know if he can touch her right now. One of Clarke’s hand is bloody, and he can see a gleam of metal from the weapon she used to kill Finn when she shifts to get up. Abby runs up to her daughter, kneeling down on the mud and holding her tight. “I’m sorry,” Bellamy hears Abby say to her. “Clarke baby, I’m so sorry.” Abby’s hands tangle in Clarke’s hair, and she rocks her like she’s still a child. Bellamy hears a quiet sob and turns away from them to give them privacy.

The guards calls for the crowd to disperse, and they do. They murmur, throw dark glances at the mother and daughter on the ground, but follow the orders without a fight. Bellamy stares down the guard that approaches him. He won’t leave Clarke.

When they all leave, Bellamy notices the riders that are still outside the gates, impassive with their masks on. “Are you happy now?” he shouts at them. “You got your bloodshed!”

He’s angry. He’s angry that Finn’s dead. He’s angry that they couldn’t find another way to protect him. Most of all, he’s angry that Clarke had to kill Finn in order for him to die in the least violent way. He feels so helpless and weak and pathetic.

Abby helps her daughter up, taking her to the infirmary to clean and patch up the wounds. She meets Bellamy’s eyes and continues walking. He takes this as permission for him to follow. He trails behind them, wanting nothing more than to talk to Clarke, but he knows that she’s in no condition for talking now. She needs time to recover from what she’s done.

In far sight, Bellamy knows Clarke did the best she could. Much as he hated to admit that in the beginning, he knows that Clarke tries her best – she has from the very beginning. And unfortunately, not everyone sees it this way.

They walk pass Lincoln on their way to one of the beds. The man watches them without speaking until they disappear from his sight, noting her bloodied state. The knife that slides out from her sleeve and onto the floor when Clarke lies down on the empty bed. 

At the clang of metal hitting the ground, Abby looks down to see the knife. She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it resolutely, bending down to pick up the soiled knife. “You’re going to be fine,” Abby tells her daughter, running her head lightly through her hair. “You’re going to be all right,” she says, looking at her in the eyes. Clarke looks back, her mouth pressed into a thin line and her eyes impassive but sad at the same time.

Abby kisses Clarke's forehead before she turns away and leaves to grab some supplies. She passes Bellamy, giving him a look that tells him that she's giving them this moment to speak to each other alone.

When Abby has left the room, Bellamy takes another step closer to Clarke, staring down at the girl. She's not a girl anymore, he thinks with a jolt. If they were ever children, it's been lost a long time ago whether it started the moment they were imprisoned on the Ark or started a war with the grounders.

Bellamy doesn't know what to say. He thinks back to when they were squabbling enemies, always complaining about each other's actions. They've changed so much. And so have Finn and Bellamy's relationship. He can't think about him with feeling sadness stir within him. Another life lost. Another comrade lost.

“How was it?” Bellamy found the words escaping his mouth. He doesn't bother to ask if she's all right. Bellamy has never seen Clarke so unnerved until now. It's obvious that she isn't fine.

Clarke's eyes finally seem to land on his face, seeing him for the first time since Finn's death. She opens her mouth to say something, and Bellamy takes another step closer. “I killed him,” she whispers while staring straight ahead, as if seeing something that he can't. Her voice is scratchy and on the verge of tears. “I just held him in my arms as I...carved into his chest with a blade.” She looks back at Bellamy, and the anguish in her eyes is so palpable that he wants to hold her in his arms like that time when they found each other again. He doesn't though, letting her finish speaking.

“He told me he loved me, Bellamy.” She looks at him helplessly, a tear making a clear path down her bloodied face. “And I just kept going. I kept going.” She sobs. “Is this how he felt at the village?”

“Hey,” Bellamy begins, leaning over the bed and looking at her. “You did the best thing for him.” He wouldn't go so far to call it the right thing, but that was the best outcome possible for Finn. Clarke shakes her head, her lips trembling and eyes wet. “Clarke, there was nothing you could do about it.”

“He told me he loved me,” Clarke says again, her voice trembling with unshed tears. “But I couldn't forgive him.”

He stares at her, swallowing at the confession. “It's okay,” he tells her softly. “You didn't need to.”

“But he died for me,” Clarke says, barely audible. “He killed all those people – and only because he wanted to find me. It's my fault. He died for me. Because of me,” she echoes.

Bellamy puts a hand on her shoulder. “Look,” he begins. “We all wanted to find you. What Finn did was wrong, and it's not your fault, okay? You got that?” When Clarke doesn't answer, Bellamy adds, “You can't save everyone, Clarke. And you can't be responsible for everyone either.”

At those words Clarke breaks down, the wall that was holding her emotion torn to pieces as she curls up on her side and sobs freely. Bellamy places a hand on her hair and strokes softly, feeling sadness swell inside of him at the sight.

When Abby returns, Bellamy immediately lifts his hand from Clarke's hair as if burned. “I'll see you soon,” he says to no response. He turns, leaving the room to the mother and daughter.

Before he's out of earshot, Clarke's voice reaches him. “Thank you.” The rest is unspoken.

**Author's Note:**

> "You can't save everyone, Clarke." - Bellamy said it to Clarke in the books (Day 21), chapter 13


End file.
